


Daybreak

by yaboiku



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:07:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23339647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yaboiku/pseuds/yaboiku
Summary: the chronicles of Sylvain trying to get over his crush and his heart betraying him constantly
Relationships: Sylvain Jose Gautier/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 11
Kudos: 97





	1. Dusk

Nearly dying the second time, as it turns out, was worse than the first time. Byleth still couldn’t shake the feeling of coldness that plagued her since her very confusing awakening after falling to her death during the attack on Garreg Mach. It had been a week since then, a very hard week of seeing how much her students had grown, and how incredibly tired they looked. They all clung to normality, chatting and going about daily chores as if they were still students; as if they weren’t fighting for their homeland every day of their lives.

But behind it was a much more frantic energy, their fear hidden just under the surface, in the bags under their eyes and in the way they looked to Byleth for guidance, silently asking for assurance that they would live to see the end of the war and find a normal life for themselves. Byleth slowly picked at her food and observed the students at the table, the few routinely present for shared meals. Across from her, Mercedes and Annette discussed the differences between sweet bread and pastry bread, a surprisingly in-depth topic, while to her right the still heartbroken Ashe repeatedly stabbed his now unrecognizable food with his fork. To her left, Sylvain watched his former classmates with feigned interest.

“Did we differentiate between what makes bread a dessert yet? Will we ever get closure?” Byleth leaned over to quietly ask him.

“I think the consensus is it’s not a dessert until you eat it with a dessert item. I think in about an hour we might get to what the difference between dessert and a sweet snack is,” Sylvain responded, moving to get up. He was always the first to leave, whether you would find him training or bothering his companions afterward was always a shot in the dark, but it was a step up from his previous habit of never training at all. Ashe followed shortly after, clearly disinterested in whatever he’d done to his poor fish fillet. He’d been spending all of his free time in the greenhouse, either working diligently to return it to working order or, when he thought nobody was around, he could be seen gazing at the Duscur roses with an unreadable expression on his face and tears welling up in his eyes.

Byleth went to help the kitchen staff -a few devout who had heard the monastery was in use again- clean the remnants of dinner, trying to find something to occupy her mind and hands. The past week still didn’t feel real. Being told she missed five years felt like some sort of horrible joke at her expense; knowing Edelgard was behind it caused her a type of hurt she didn’t completely understand. If she hadn’t saved Edelgard all those years ago, would this still be happening? Or maybe if she had chosen to lead the black eagles, she could have convinced her to go down a gentler path. Byleth decided dwelling on it could change nothing, and that regardless of what she could have done, people needed and relied on her now. 

Needing more to keep her mind occupied, Byleth decided to check the map in the meeting room again. Alliances changed in five years and she needed to go over enemy troop positions one or five more times to ease her mind, even if she already knew them by heart. 

Passing by the infirmary, Byleth spotted Sylvain trying, and failing, to wrap a wound near his shoulder blade. He looked intensely focused on getting it to lay flat while also not dropping it, and Byleth felt a little bad when she stepped into the room to offer help and seemingly startled him. He sheepishly looked at her, as if he were doing something he didn’t want her to find out about.

“What happened here?” Byleth asked, walking over to get a better view of the gash. It wasn’t too deep or serious, but it was directly between where the plates of his armor would sit, and it likely caused a lot of discomfort when moving.

“Well… remember in that last fight when I blocked that huge axeman aiming for you while you were fighting that grappler?” she nodded, not liking where this was going. “His little swordsman friend got around my shield. Lucky shot between my armor. Mercedes healed most of it pretty quickly but couldn’t get it all right then. I figured I wouldn’t bother her with the rest and just let it heal by itself.” His tone was low, and he looked slightly downcast, like he didn’t really want to tell her what had happened. But his expression changed back to his usual slick smile as he straightened himself up. “Besides ladies love scars, right? I’d say it’s a good story to tell,” he tried to nonchalantly put his arms behind his head, but his cool façade was broken when he winced at the effort. If it hurt that bad now, how bad had it been before it was healed?

“You said Mercedes healed it, what did it look like before?” Byleth reached up to feel around the wound for tenderness or marks before realizing they’d been having this conversation while he was half undressed. It wasn’t a radical new concept to see a teammate partially undressed to care for injuries, but being this close up to him just reinforced he had grown five years in her absence. That she had really been missing for five years.

“She said I was lucky he hit bone. If his angle had been straighter it would have gone further between my ribs. Its mostly healed now so no need to worry about it.” He knew that slight crease between his professor’s eyebrows meant he was probably going to get a stern warning to be more aware of his surroundings and not get caught off guard, but her face relaxed into an almost weary look.

“I’m just… really glad you’re okay.” Internally Byleth was trying to manage how devastating this could have been. She’d seen her students die before, and as terrible, traumatic it was to see, she was able to use divine pulse to rectify her mistakes. It never crossed her mind that someone could be badly injured without her noticing. That she could lose someone and never get them back. “Here, let me rebandage it for you,” she quickly cleared her head and reached for the gauze. No distractions. Keep composure. Her students’ lived depended on her having a clear focus.

When she was finished wrapping the wound, Sylvain stood up tall and tested the range of motion in his arm to make sure he wouldn’t accidentally disturb the bandage. Satisfied, he turned to thank Byleth and reach for his shirt.

Byleth was almost out the door when she heard him call out to her.  
“Hey, professor I wanted to… apologize for something.” He paused, searching for words. Byleth didn’t remember him doing anything he needed to apologize for, in fact, she had hardly seen him during the past week at all. “I kind of wanted to think about how to say this more, but I feel bad for avoiding you for this long, so I just want to get it over with. I wanted to say I’m sorry for what I said to you a long time ago, about being born with a crest and not knowing it. I regretted it after I said it, but I didn’t want to own up to it and admit I was wrong to say that. But when you disappeared, I was scared you’d died thinking I hated you. I’ve felt guilty about it for a long time, and I don’t want you to think I have any negative feelings towards you at all. I was just a jealous kid who wished he had a different life but was too scared to do anything about it.” He looked repentant. Vulnerable. She met his gaze, hoping he understood she could never truly be mad at him.

“you’ve grown, Sylvain.” She managed a small smile, hoping to give him some assurance. Byleth was never good at expressing her feelings, and wasn’t sure she could ever convey how much any of her students meant to her, but she hoped this quiet moment between them would mean as much to him as it did to her. He’d trusted her with his feelings and all she could hope to do was treat them kindly.

“Thank you, professor,” he looked relieved; like he could finally relax after holding his breath for too long.

And with that, Byleth walked out to continue her journey to the map, where she sat down and put her head in her hands, completely disinterested in the lines of red soldiers dotting the kingdom in front of her.

He could have died.

_He could have_ _died._


	2. Waxing, Waning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took longer than i wanted because I bought myself granblue fantasy versus for doing well on my finals. i am now very invested in being the best percival player.

_ Oh, shit did we just have a moment? I think we just had a moment.  _ Sylvain let all the air he was holding out at once in a nervous huff, attempting to lean against the wall in relief, completely forgetting the wound he just had patched up, wincing as he straightened. He’d been trying to find a time to apologize to Byleth ever since he said it, but in his stubbornness (or maybe cowardice? He decided not to think too hard on it), he decided to hope it would just be forgotten by them both. That is, until he thought she was dead. He didn’t have much time to regret his words while fighting for his homeland, but every so often when caught in nostalgia, he found himself wishing he could have fixed their relationship when he had the chance. It likely wouldn’t have changed anything, but the idea Byleth had died thinking he hated her made him feel sick. Sick because he had said it, and sick because he could never take it back.

So of course as soon as he got over the relief of seeing her alive, the disbelief and confusion of  _ how _ she was alive, he settled into the nervousness of wanting to apologize for basically threatening her life and being extremely jealous, coupled with wondering how to say it, when to say it, and if it was even worth saying. Did she remember? Did she care? The possibilities plagued him until Ingrid got tired of seeing him either trying to avoid Byleth with everything he had or hovering around her awkwardly like a lost child. So he instead spent all his time trying to word his apology properly until, suddenly they were alone and who knows when they would have that chance again and she was already being so understanding, just come out and say it right?

But now what?

He’d assuaged his own guilt, but did it help anything? Did he repair their relationship? Did it help him focus on more important things? Did it save lives? Did it win wars?

Maybe it did all or none of these things. But the answers wouldn’t come to him while he stood around in the infirmary, so he took his leave to search elsewhere.

* * *

After a few weeks everyone was starting to settle into their routines, coordinating chores, training, guard schedules, and cooking much like their student days, but with some slight leeway for personal preferences. Mainly, the cooks didn’t want Annette starting two fires in the kitchen every week, and requested it be kept to one. 

Byleth still grappled with how to train her former students. They still looked to her for guidance of course, but every time she spared with them she found something new they couldn’t do before, an experience she never knew they had. Treating them as students started to feel improper, not only were they much more capable, many were technically older than her, making her feel slightly odd, even small compared to some of them. Every time she felt adjusted something else made her notice a change.

The change she was currently adjusting to stood in front of her, casually gripping a training lance and asking to spar.

“Why not ask Felix? He’s always training, and you know he wouldn’t go easy on you.” Byleth motioned towards Felix, who was as he did every day, completely destroying all of their practice dummies.

“I want to get better not get skewered, and I don’t think he’d agree to do any actual helping,” Sylvain shrugged “Besides, how could I pass up any opportunity to spend time with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met?”

“This is why I would stab you if you asked to spar with me. Try being serious for five minutes please.” Felix huffed while walking past to put his equipment away. He turned to Byleth with a scrunched brow. “If it's possible, could you please get this idiot to train seriously. The amount of times I’ve seen him get hurt because he takes blows for anyone nearby is unhealthy. He’s probably got brain damage at this point.”

“Aww, Felix are you worried about me?” Sylvain teased.

“No, I just think planning a funeral would be bad for morale,” Felix said, turning towards the entrance to the grounds. With an almost undetectable glance back, he strode out the doors, leaving Byleth to contemplate Sylvain’s request on her own.

“So tell me what exactly you wanted to work on,” she said, giving him a glance over. Now that they were alone his posture had sunken slightly. he looked a little more tired and a lot more needy.

“I need help figuring out how to deflect swords faster. If I can’t use my shield and only my lance… well, you saw what happened.” Sylvain broke eye contact suddenly much more interested in the lines in the dirt the butt of his weapon could make. He slightly rolled his shoulder as if his healed wound still hurt. It was unlike him to be so withdrawn, so Byleth took his request to heart.

“Alright. Spar with me then.” She said, grabbing a nearby practice sword and walking past him towards the center of the arena. “I’d like to see for myself where your defense is weakest,” turning to him, she gave him a small, slightly mischievous smile. “I’ll go easy on you, don’t worry.”

She did not, however, have any intention of going easy on him. As soon as he was in position to start, Byleth quickly lunged and swung low, spinning the lance out of her stunned partners grasp, watching it land with an unceremonious clank as he tried to understand what happened. He stood for a moment, hands still attempting to grip a weapon that was no longer there, and Byleth couldn’t help but let out a light laugh as he let his hands drop and gave her a playful glare.

“I’m supposed to believe that was going easy on me?” Sylvain went to retrieve his fallen weapon and got back into ready position. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were just messing with me,” he tried to give her his most charming smile, knowing full well she was going to kick his ass for the next hour or so, but maybe if she thought he was cute she would kick his ass a little less severely.

Byleth didn’t pay him any mind and instead called for another match start. Sylvain was good of course, he always had been decently talented in combat, but since their talk in the infirmary, he’d been somewhat more attentive in his studies. Admittedly, Byleth had always been fond of Sylvain for some reason or another. he was persistent in his pursuit of every woman’s attention, yes, but there were times when he had shown such care for his friends and classmates that Byleth felt something warm and comfortable sitting deep in her chest, a knowing that he would always be a reliable friend and ally if she truly needed him.

Meanwhile, Sylvain was repeatedly getting the life and pride smacked out of him. Over and over Byleth managed to find some hole in his defense and his ribs and arms now ached from repeated hits of her training sword and the occasional trip to the ground. He was trying to focus on where her hits were most likely to land, but she was fast, and with a quick shove unbalanced him just enough that she could quickly disarm him and level her sword with his chest, both of them stock still while Sylvain prayed silently to the Goddess this didn’t awaken any fantasies within him.

After a moment, Byleth lowered her sword and smiled her usual barely-there smile. “Remember to keep me at range. I shouldn’t be able to get in close enough to do damage.” She chided him gently, moving to pick up his discarded lance and start cleaning up the training equipment. Sylvain nodded, attempting to digest her words while wondering if he had doomed himself to endless lost training sessions by seeking out her help. Moving to help her, they looked over the day's used instruments for damages. Checking over items in a peaceful quiet, Sylvain dared a glance at his old professor, noting the calm and methodical way she checked blades and how she looked what he could only describe as content as they worked together. He suddenly found himself enamored with her small movements, the way her hands moved, and how she tried several times to blow her fringe out of her face before it finally settled into the place she wanted. Mentally Sylvain cursed, knowing the Goddess had ignored his plea to spare him of any fantasies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sylvain deserves goodboy points and by god I will give them to him


	3. Midnight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote 90% of this while very tipsy 💖💖 no i will not do better 💖💖💖

Byleth was getting used to not being able to sleep. The battle in Ailell was still too fresh in her mind. 

The scorching heat sneaking up on her when she slept, leaving her awake and sweating, wondering why it was affecting her so. After the third night in a row, her room became too stifling and she decided maybe she should make a new hobby of wandering around the monastery in the dead of night. Usually, she never saw anyone, save a passing guard, the silence comforting until it became too heavy, telling her to retire to her room once more for a few hours of sleep before the world started again. Her favorite spot had quickly become the wide walkway in front of the cathedral; in the distance, there was a village, and while it was nearly completely dark at night there were usually a few lights flickering, faint signs of life in the distance. The first time she saw them, beyond the graveyard her father was buried in, something inside her ached. She could not save him, not even with a goddess’s power. While there were countless lives lost, watching the lights flicker in the distance gave her comfort; there were still people living their lives, as normal as possible, and just being able to see it made everything hurt just a little less.

The cool air and gentle breeze were starting to make Byleth slightly tired, her eyelids starting to feel heavy and her shoulders relaxing as she attempted to make heads or tails of the stars. How anybody found shapes in them was beyond her, maybe it was just a practical joke that got out of hand or-

“Ouch ow please let go, please- “

  
Or Sylvain was walking out of the cathedral with a cat around his ankle.

  
It was certainly a sight to behold; a high-born knight bargaining with a bobtail calico who playfully climbed his leg, swatting at him when he tried to pry her off. A fluffy tabby followed them out and batted at the calico, drawing her attention and freeing Sylvain from her claws. He stood back up to his full height with a sigh, turning towards the bridge before noticing his audience of one with her knuckles pressed tightly to her lips to ward off the smile she was clearly in a losing battle with.

“Please tell me you didn’t see that.” Sylvain tried to compose himself. There wasn’t much he could dignify about being attacked by cats in his sleep clothes but with the Goddess as his witness, he would certainly try.

  
“Saw what? You politely asking a cat to stop eating your leg?” Byleth stopped fighting her smile.

“She was not eating me. She was just playing. Aggressively.” 

  
Byleth finally let out the laugh she was holding in. “You called her ‘ma’am’, Sylvain.” Of all the situations she could think of being in, this would be at the bottom of her list. “Why are you even out here, it’s the middle of the night.” 

  
“I could ask you the same thing professor,” he came to stand beside her, leaning against the low stone wall to look down the mountainside. “honestly, I haven’t been sleeping well lately. On nights I get too anxious I come out here to see the cats and take my mind off things,” he briefly looked at her, then back out into nothingness.

  
Byleth mirrored his stance. “I haven’t been sleeping either. Almost every night I wake up thinking about something I need to do or thinking about if I made the right decision. Instead of lying in bed awake, I stand out here awake until I’m so exhausted that I can finally get a few hours of sleep.” Locking her eyes onto the distant village lights, she pulled her coat tighter around herself. Naturally, she had to be wearing her one thin nightgown on the same night she meets Sylvain in the cold. Curse laundry day. “it’s been happening ever since Ailell. Everything feels so... critical. and everyone is asking my opinion on it like I didn’t just wake up from being dead for five years.” Byleth looked away from the village lights, now shrouded by an approaching rainstorm. This level of responsibility wasn’t new per se, as being a professor and investigating all of the activities before Edelgard launched her attack was certainly stressful and had lives depending on her performance, but this was different. This was bigger, heavier, and felt unending. She finally looked at Sylvain and judging by the deep knit in his brows, she’d crossed a line in unloading frustrations she didn’t even understand until just now on him. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to- “

  
“I get it.” He responded. Seeing her puzzled expression, Sylvain shifted closer to her, leaning in slightly. “Sounds to me like you’re stressed out. I know you have the whole Goddess power chosen one image to maintain but you can let your guard down sometimes. Lean on some people for support. I can’t speak for anyone else but I want to help at least, if you’ll let me.”

  
For a minute Byleth wasn’t sure how to respond. Emotions weren’t her strong suit, neither was asking for help. Asking for help about emotions was about the furthest thing from her understanding but the way he looked at her, at that moment she knew he would support her, no matter what she said. 

  
“Thank you that’s… it’s hard to understand these things sometimes but it’s nicer than I thought it would be to have someone say that.” She searched for more words, feeling awkward, hoping that she could change the subject to something not so focused on her. The clouds must have heard her thoughts because they decided to spare her any more thinking by dumping cold hard rain over the entire monastery.

  
“ah…. This was the only nightgown I had left…” Byleth said, completely defeated and much too tired to notice Sylvain’s ears turn red. “we should probably go back and get some sleep then,” pulling her jacket tightly around her, she began walking towards the bridge.

  
“But the rain is so nice. And cold. And hard.” Sylvain feigned enjoyment as he fell into step beside her. “it’s just so pleasant, I could stay out here all night.” He continued to joke until they got to the dorms and suddenly neither of them knew what to say.

  
“Hey professor, I meant what I said about leaning on me. I… everyone cares about you a lot.” Sylvain swallowed and attempted to smile, “you’re everyone’s favorite professor, we have to watch out for you.”

  
Byleth knit her brows together. “I’m not your professor anymore. and most of you are technically older than me, I think. You can just call me Byleth.” The formality most people spoke to her with was starting to get tiring to put it gently, and in the middle of the night, soaking wet and cold, breaking down a piece of that wall felt right. When he wasn’t coming up with half-baked marriage proposals, Sylvain was one of the most trustworthy people she could think of to start making real connections with.

  
“alright… goodnight then, Byleth.” He said her name so softly as he turned away that Byleth stood for a moment outside her door, something in her chest keeping her in the spot, staring after him. 

  
Brushing it off, she opened her door and stepped inside.

* * *

War was tiring. No amount of good news could make Byleth any wearier than she was in that moment, completely zoning out in the dining hall while everyone celebrated Dedue’s return to the land of the living and the victory in taking Myrddin Bridge. Sleeping had been a luxury in the weeks of planning for battle, and now that it was over, that everyone was happy and distracted, now that she’d taken part in welcoming Dedue back, she could finally sleep for maybe an entire seven hours, eight if she left quickly. Scanning the room for who was around what exit, Byleth’s eyes fell on one persistent redhead who since their sparring matches began, had been popping up in her life more and more. First his graceful entrance with the cathedral cats several weeks ago, and since then he seemed to covertly be attempting to help her as much as possible. Training gear was mysteriously cleaning itself, books and paperwork were organized, and she had even seen him asking a librarian about Adrestian books without flirting. After running into him a few more times near the cathedral entrance and asking him about it, she concluded it must be him from the smile he tried to hide while denying having anything to do with it. 

  
However, he was currently between her and the door with the least amount of people around it, and therefore an enemy. Doing her best to not be noticed, Byleth crept through the doorway and into the gardens adjacent to the classrooms. The cool air woke her up slightly, and the soft glow from the dining hall gave the area a calming ambiance. Noticing a shadow appear next to her, Byleth turned around, seeing Sylvain leaning in the doorway, half illuminated by the revelry inside.

  
“Sneaking out for a romantic tryst I see.” With a smug grin, he sauntered over to her. Byleth resisted the urge to smack him.

  
“I’m going to bed.” She said, pulling her coat closer around her. “I’m not really a large gatherings person.” Byleth could feel his eyes on her, considering her words. They were true; friendly socialization still required effort she was currently too tired to give, especially in large gatherings.

  
Sylvain just nodded in understanding. “It’s been rough lately, everyone’s exhausted. But Dedue’s back and dragging him to a social event is this week’s idea of blowing off steam I guess.” He languidly rolled his left shoulder, looking himself like he was staving off his own exhaustion just through willpower. “Everyone wants you in there, they can tell how hard this is on you but nobody’s sure how to help.” Byleth avoided his gaze, feeling something akin to guilt settling in her stomach. Had the stress of taking on the position Rodrigue and Gilbert asked of her really been so obvious?

  
“I’ve never asked for help. and I’m not sure I know how to start.” Finally summoning the willpower to face him, Byleth lifted her gaze to meet Sylvain’s. he looked sincere, the light from the dining hall playing off his hair and highlighting his jawline in a way that had Byleth entranced for a reason she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

  
“Maybe just try opening up a little to start.” He said softly. Turning to go back inside, he left a still wide-eyed Byleth staring after him, too preoccupied with how his absence from her side left her feeling cold to respond to his goodnight with anything more than an attempted smile and her own fumbled goodnight.

  
Walking back to her room, she felt a longing for something she couldn’t recognize deep in her chest.

**Author's Note:**

> this is a short chapter but its really me trying to get this first piece out and committing to not letting it sit forever in my WIP folder. I haven't written anything like this in a long time and its a lot more fun than I remember, so I really want to see it to the end. I hope I'm not too rusty and this is actually good lol


End file.
